by Lissa Kasey
Seiran lost all other thought, memory, and emotion. His body singing in triumph even as it fought to accommodate the intensity of the pounding. He sucked in large gulps of air, wave after wave of pleasure building. Gabe holding him firmly in place, splitting him in two with every thrust, and building the friction of intensity throughout his body.
Gabe wrapped his arm around Seiran’s waist, bringing them closer, even while still spearing him hard, and pressing him into the bed. Gabe returned a hand to Seiran’s throat. Kissing the side of Seiran’s face. “You like this,” Gabe whispered. He squeezed his hand the smallest bit, limiting how much air Seiran could draw.
Stars exploded inside Seiran’s head. His body following suit as he came hard, a rush of heat like lava pouring down his spine to awaken every nerve in his body. His body clenched and spasmed around Gabe, feeling the heat of Gabe’s spend fill him. Seiran’s vision narrowed into dark tunnels and pops of light, lack of air and too much sensation assaulting him all at once. He almost passed out, but his racing heart, and Gabe letting go of his throat, brought him back from the edge.
He felt covered in sweat and come, filled to the brink with the hot spend of everything he’d missed for far too long. Held in Gabe’s arms, it didn’t matter that Gabe’s weight held him down, or the arm wrapped around him bit into his stomach. He turned his head to the side to lay it on the pillow and gulp air. His body pulsing, oversensitive, but still wanting more, even while Gabe was still inside.
“You didn’t bite me,” Seiran whispered, feeling a bit sad. He’d wanted that just as much as the sex. A bit of affirmation that they went together, the blood and the pleasure.
“Later,” Gabe said, rolling them to the side, keeping himself pressed into Seiran for another minute as though savoring it. “They don’t need to go together.”
But Seiran liked them together, he realized. Sex and the bite. Had that been him instead of Gabe? He sighed as the flood of his overactive mind stuttered back to life.
He felt Gabe smile into his shoulder. “It’s like that, is it?” He pulled out, leaving Seiran feeling gaping and empty, air cooling his skin. He didn’t like it. He liked it even less when Gabe got up and went to the bathroom. For a few seconds the terrible feeling of being alone again filled him. Abandoned. Used up and left. Worthless.
But Gabe stepped out of the bathroom with a washcloth in hand, and returned to wipe down Seiran’s ass, and cock. He tossed the soiled pillow off the bed, before curling around Seiran, and pulling the blanket over both of them.
“You overthink a lot,” Gabe said as he spooned himself around Seiran.
He did. Always had.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Gabe said. He reached out and hit a button on the remote that plunged the room into darkness. Only a thin ribbon of light came from the bathroom. “I may not remember everything, but I love you, Seiran Rou. A decade and a half, or even a century isn’t going to change that.”
Seiran couldn’t help but collapse in Gabe’s arms and cry. Not bad tears, but cleansing ones. He fell asleep praying that when he woke, it wouldn’t all be a dream instead of reality.
Chapter 18
Arriving home, Gabe was drunk on blood and knowledge. All while his brain still throbbed with holes great enough to look like Swiss cheese. He felt a bit overconfident, and alive in his skin. He’d also been burning with need for a particular witch. The second he’d stepped in the door and smelled the decadence of chocolate cake and Seiran, his libido throbbed, demanding pursuit.
It was a bit of an unusual feeling. The aching physical need to reclaim what belonged to him, and the emotional connection that sank into place demanding to be strengthened. Even while his brain circled through broken images that barely gave him a glimpse at the full picture of his past.
Seiran’s comment about getting it over with, like letting Gabe touch him was something to endure, pricked his ego. The memories of Seiran were scattered, broken, flickers of bits and pieces, even while Gabe’s heart ached like a knife had torn through him. Seiran was his. Gabe had sat in a booth at the bar contemplating the emotion for a while, half dozing from being overfull with blood, and swirling memories. At first, he thought it had been possession, a need to reclaim something his revenant considered theirs, but it was more than that. The well of emotion running deep even with only vague remains of his memory in place.
The tears. Fuck, he hated those tears. But they were his fault this time. With most of his hunger satiated, his body demanded touch and a reconnection with the man he loved. There was no other explanation for the intensity of the emotions. It hurt to breathe for a while. The thought of losing what he’d found, that he’d been the reason everything was messed up, nearly breaking him. He sat hunched over the table, struggling to power through the tide of rolling memories, emotions, and self-destruction he’d wrought.
Still so scattered. It drove him fucking mad. The holes like gaping wounds of his past, unable and unwilling to heal because that would be acknowledging his failure.
Even the vague memories of Titus were disjointed. And not nearly as vivid or emotionally powerful as the ones he had of Seiran. Love and infatuation were two very different things. He’d died twice for Titus. The first time as a mortal, and the second as vampire to his first forced grounding. And he’d felt pain and loss each time, heartbroken, lonely, but it didn’t breach the surface of the well of emotions tied to the witch.
Sam had been the last to visit, not offering a cibo to Gabe, as Gabe had already had Luca’s blood when first arisen. The stirring of broken memories slotting back into place had made Gabe dizzy, hands digging into the table, even as Sam sat there quietly.
“You hurt him again, and I will fuck you up,” Sam offered, looking bored.
“I thought I was supposed to be some sort of super vamp that all the baby vamps were afraid of?” Gabe had asked him.
Sam snorted. “Sure. Maybe? The fuck I care. Treat the witch good, or else.”
They sat in silence a bit longer as Gabe sorted memories, his forehead pressed to the wood tabletop. “I love him?” Gabe asked after a while.
“You did,” Sam agreed. “Was that legit?”
Gabe thought so. That ache to have Seiran close didn’t feel like the Focus bond. The desire to see him smile, know he was happy, those were intense. Almost as intense as the pain of knowing he’d really fucked up. And on top of that major screwup, he’d been forced to ground for over a decade when Seiran had needed him most. “I cheated…”
“Not sexually,” Sam offered. “I questioned folks after you went to ground. Sounds like you couldn’t get it up. Whatever Tresler did to unravel your control, made you hungry. You were gorging on blood. Not that regular blood from addicted and dying humans does much for us.”
The reminder brought back a bitter taste in Gabe’s mouth. Like he could remember the hint of death on his tongue. Bad blood. He’d never been a fan, though knew it had been necessary from time to time over the long years of his life.
“Not cibos,” Gabe said.
“Seiran’s the jealous type. I don’t think it was a good idea for you to be feeding only from him and the bottled shit. Probably a good idea to set up an arrangement like Max has. Maybe let the witch choose?”
“You think he will?”
“I think Seiran is practical. If you make clear to him, you’re not having sex with blood donors, he’ll get it.”
Sex and blood. They went well together. A perk of being a vampire, but not a requirement. Though the thought brought back visceral memories of Gabe in bed with Seiran. Sex and blood. Yeah, their relationship had been very defined that way. “He was young…”
“Was. Past tense verb. I know you vampires think of life in different terms. All humans nothing but babies, but he’s not a kid anymore. Don’t treat him like one.”
“You’re a vampire too,” Gabe pointed out.
Sam shrugged. “I also don’t use that seduction bullshit.”
“Right. No seducing your lo
vers and feeding on them?”
“Only Luca. Con isn’t into that, and that’s okay. I eat well enough. We have an arrangement. And I have other cibos, as well as hunting. You’ll need to make one with Rou.”
“Does he hate me?” Gabe wondered. The memories were so disjointed. In fact, the bits at the end, had giant holes. He remembered his arm aching, organic material sprouting from it. A flex of power from the witch that could force the earth to take him back. He’d done something, though couldn’t remember what. He even had a vague glimpse of twin infants. But only a snapshot. The rest was lost to the memory of tears, and finally cold resolve when the witch walked out.
“No,” Sam said after a few minutes. “He probably should. But love is that way. Forgiving even when it shouldn’t be. You abandoned him when he needed you most. Even if you couldn’t help it, it doesn’t hurt less.”
Gabe wondered about the anger in Sam’s tone. More like Sam had been abandoned. But maybe both? Gabe got the impression that he’d brought Sam over, and knew he was fairly young, but still only had bits and pieces. “I abandoned you?” Gabe asked after a few silent minutes of debating. Pull out the thorn or let it continue to dig in?
Sam stiffened and nodded. “Severed our tie.”
A young vampire cut off from their sire always turned revenant. Gabe couldn’t imagine himself doing that. And Sam sitting there, not only alive, but in control? That was amazing.
“I’m sorry,” Gabe said.
“My superpowers appeared then, so whatever. I suspect you’ll be saying sorry a lot in the future.”
“Probably,” Gabe agreed. “Do words help at all?”
“No,” Sam said flatly.
Gabe sighed, “I will do my best to be better. It’s all I can really offer.”
“Best you tell us if something is happening this time. The revenant taking control or you just wanna be done with this world. No more of the lone wolf bullshit.”
“Okay.”
Sam stared at him awhile longer like he was debating the truth of that, but didn’t press further. He had offered to escort Gabe home. Home, Gabe wasn’t sure he had one. It was supposed to be with the witch, but he would have to mend those fences if he could with a half broken memory.
They rode in the car in silence, Gabe lost in thought. There was still a lot missing. Mike said it would take a while to regain it all. His life long enough that the history books couldn’t keep up. Gabe didn’t feel that old. And many of the memories felt more like a movie replay than something he’d experienced. A lack of emotion tied to some of them, kept them surreal. But Seiran, he hadn’t been sure about that emotion until he’d stepped in the kitchen to find him awake.
The need to reassure him had been intense, making Gabe work hard to keep himself from crossing the room and wrapping his arms around Seiran, demanding to know everything he’d forgotten. And Seiran’s gaze had delivered heat and interest, enough to know that he still physically desired Gabe, even if the man was obviously very tired. The shadow of exhaustion etched on his face and his slumped posture.
Gabe could work with that, interest and a lowered guard. And the sex had been amazing. Seiran begging beneath him, so responsive, tight, and warm. The connection between them at the tip of his fingers, close, but they weren’t ready yet.
Gabe had wanted to bite and drink deep. He’d nearly come undone at the idea of devouring the sweet flavor of Seiran’s blood along with the singing intensity of their sex. But he’d withheld.
Blood and sex could go together. And those two together with his Focus? He suspected he might just unravel again. Would the revenant rejoice? Or break free?
No need to scare the witch.
Seiran, Gabe thought. Sei. He’d fallen asleep in Gabe’s arms. The stress and tension finally seeping out of him and leaving him to what seemed to be restful sleep. They would need to share blood soon. It would strengthen their withered bond and help his control. But all at once would have been too much, maybe for both of them.
Seiran’s phone rang a half dozen times, coming from across the room where it had fallen. The volume low, but enough to make Gabe tense fearing it would wake Seiran. But he seemed to be sleeping deeply. Gabe even dozed for a while, a few hours perhaps. Flitting from nightmare to nightmare, some in which he killed Seiran, others that he began slaughtering at random. All leaving him on edge, fearing the revenant would break free if he actually slept deeply.
He was woken again by the sound of knocking. It was light, and it took him a moment to orient himself, where he was, and the man in his arms.
He worried getting up would wake Seiran, but he was fast asleep, nestled deep within the blankets. Gabe extracted himself carefully, grabbing his dirty shirt off the top of the basket in case there was a kid at the door. He paused at the top of the stairs, breathing in the scent of the older muscular man.
Jamie. The memories walloped him with another nosebleed.
Gabe sighed, and lifted the shirt to brush away the blood as he opened the door a crack. If Jamie wasn’t alone near the back of the kitchen everyone would be getting an eyeful of naked vampire, but he was.
Jamie’s gaze was cold, going to the shirt and the blood on it now rather than Gabe’s nudity.
“It’s mine,” Gabe said quietly, lowering the shirt to show the blood coming from his nose. “Memories of you returning with a vengeance. You should be pleased.”
“That memories of me hurt you? Sadly, not enough. Is Seiran okay?”
“He’s the Pillar of Earth. Do you really think anything I could do could hurt him? It is my understanding that he can’t die until the earth allows him to. She’ll keep bringing him back.” There was a sudden image in his head of Seiran being shot, right through the forehead. He even felt as though the bullet had entered his own skull, burning into his brain and then turning everything dark. Thankfully it only lasted a few seconds, though his nose began to bleed harder. Gabe pinched it and tilted his head back. “Fucking memories.”
“Not all pain is physical.”
“That’s for fucking sure,” Gabe agreed. “Seiran is fine. He’s asleep. Doesn’t seem to get much of that these days.” The comment was a bit accusatory. Jamie caught the tone and bristled as though gearing up to attack. Then a younger blond man appeared.
“Kelly,” Gabe said. He was going to need to eat again soon if he didn’t stop the nosebleed, or at least all the overwhelming memories that were triggering it.
Kelly put a hand on Jamie’s arm and stepped between them. “Feeling more yourself?” Kelly asked cheerfully.
“Somewhat,” Gabe agreed. “Do the kids need Sei right now?” There was light coming from the arboretum, and distantly the windows, though the curtains were drawn. Morning, but Gabe wasn’t sure what time in the morning. Early? “He needs some sleep.”
“We’ve got the kids. Taking them off to school,” Kelly said. “Picking our kid up, but we’ll be out for a few hours.” He tugged Jamie away from the door. “You’ve got a bit of time alone. I trust you found the lube I left in the drawer? Figured it was best to be prepared.”
“I did. Thanks.”
Jamie began to protest, but Kelly shoved him toward the door out of the kitchen. “They are consenting adults, and you don’t get to choose for them,” Kelly told him. He looked back at Gabe and winked, before shoving the big man out of the kitchen despite the bluster.
Gabe closed and relocked the basement door before heading back down. Seiran hadn’t moved. Gabe cleaned up, rinsing away the blood as best he could until it finally stopped. He stared at his reflection a while, wondering if he should shave, maybe cut his hair. It was a bit wild. Did Seiran like it? That was more important than Gabe thought it should be. But he could wear his hair any which way. Over the years he’d learned to use it to blend in where he could. Changing it wasn’t a big deal. Letting Seiran choose would be a small thing, perhaps a step in the direction of forgiveness.
But with it was a sense that he hadn’t been himself in a long time
. Existing, rather than being. Did he have a preference about his hair? He wasn’t certain, but liked the feel of it, long in his fingers, and the scruff of the beard. Maybe burying himself in some sort of model of perfection wasn’t the best way to keep sane. Would Seiran still love him if Gabe was no longer that man?
He wondered at that. He’d come apart in the end. Not himself, perhaps the revenant taking control, but not openly slaughtering people. He couldn’t remember. Not really. Everything was broken to tiny bits of memory like slivers of glass. Andrew Roman. Not his real name, not by a long shot. But a long-time enemy.
There had been an explosion. Gabe had only the barest memories of it. He’d been in the ground. Seiran brought him back? Gabe wasn’t sure that was possible, even for a witch of Seiran’s power. He suspected that the more pieces that fell back into place, the more he would hurt. Physically and emotionally.
Abandoned. That was a pretty bad thing. But it sounded like more than that. If the revenant had been in control, it could have been really bad. The possibilities ran from full out slaughter of everyone and everything, to rage filled rambling. Somehow Gabe didn’t think it was only the latter.
Seiran’s phone buzzed again. Gabe made his way back to dig it out of Seiran’s clothes, finding the screen locked but a notification of a lot of missed messages. Should he wake Seiran? Since the family had left for the day and all of them seemed all right, he wondered what was so important, but didn’t know how to unlock the phone.
Passcode. Seiran’s birthday maybe? He tried to recall that, but couldn’t. He got a dozen other memories, small bits about food, medication, and a cat.
Not a housecat. A lynx. Seiran?
Powerful witches could change shape, though it was rare. Gabe seemed to also vaguely recall that it was illegal. Could anything really be illegal for the scion of earth, which was essentially what a pillar was.